Funds well spent, though for now the dossier on the Kazan operation remained a miracle of invisible expenses. This was an easier ask than the more familiar inverse. Those holding the purse strings were happy not to wonder, for example, at how cheaply extra-territorial surveillance had been undertaken. And it turned out that the actual cost of having someone whacked remained one of those subjects too embarrassing to discuss in public, so that wasn’t subjected to intense scrutiny either.
Judd became embroiled in something humorous to his right. Meanwhile, the man to Diana’s left required her attention.
‘What you said afterwards,’ he said. ‘
‘How did you come to hear about that?’
‘Oh, come on. You said it to spark a legend. You knew it would get around.’
She had a long-standing aversion to being told what she knew, though it had been a long while since anyone had dared. And this particular man – Damien Cantor – had probably still been in school then. He was mid-thirties now, treading that line between being a noise in the business world and still hip to the streets: three-day stubble and trainers. When they went on about sixty being the new forty, they forgot to add that that made thirty-something the new twelve.
‘So anyway,’ he went on. ‘You must be pleased with the way things are going.’
‘Must I?’
‘All those years of being tethered to the rule book.’ He was dismantling a bread roll as he spoke, though the meal was effectively over. ‘And now you’re a free agent. More or less.’
‘I have no plans to tear up any rule books, Mr Cantor.’
‘Please – Damien.’ He reached for a napkin. ‘I’m happy to have been of assistance. And we’re all looking forward to the next adventure.’
‘And I’m grateful for the backing. But the next adventure, as you put it, will more than likely consist of improved administrative processes. It’s astonishing how expensive a firewall upgrade can be.’
‘I’m sure. But I think we’d all prefer something a little more technicolour. I mean, after a start like this, it would be a shame to go lo-fi, wouldn’t it?’
Diana stared, causing him no great discomfiture. He was easily the youngest of the assembled company; one of the new-breed media magicians, who’d started as a YouTube impresario and now owned a rolling news channel, mostly fed by citizen input. ‘Make it, don’t fake it’ was Channel Go’s mission statement, unless it was its mantra, or its logo. But its general thrust was to encourage choleric rage in its viewers, so, if nothing else, Cantor had tapped into the spirit of the times.
Judd had returned his attention her way.
‘Mr Cantor was just providing me with consumer feedback,’ she told him. ‘Apparently I’m to work my way up to a series finale.’
‘Damien has a well-polished sense of humour. Nobody here is steering your aim, Diana. We’re all very much behind the scenes.’
‘Of course,’ Cantor agreed. ‘Pay no attention to me.’
Plates were being cleared, and people starting to mill about. A group broke away, heading for the smoking area outside: ‘Won’t have to put up with this nonsense much longer,’ one could be heard saying.
‘In fact,’ Cantor continued, ‘I was hoping for very much the opposite. That we all pay more attention to
‘Now now,’ Judd said.
‘Oh come on, Peter. It’s the obvious next move.’ He met Diana’s gaze. ‘Channel Go have a seven o’clock bulletin. It would be a tremendous coup for us if you were to appear. A quick rundown of, ah, recent developments. No need to go into operational details. Keep it as cloak-and-dagger as you like. But a general statement to the effect that our national pride has been reasserted, that the lion has roared – well. You hardly need me to write your script.’
‘I’m starting to get the impression that that’s exactly what you think I need,’ Diana said.
‘If you prefer, we could shoot you behind a screen.’
‘I could probably arrange something similar for you.’
‘Perhaps we should discuss this another time,’ Judd cut in smoothly. ‘If I might drag you away, Diana?’
As he rose, he let his hand fall on Diana’s shoulder, and she saw Damien Cantor register this; the information slotting into place. Inaccurate information, as it happened – there was nothing between her and Judd; hadn’t been for years – but that hardly devalued it. Fake news was as useful as the other kind.
She made sure to be smiling as she got to her feet.
